Great Sand Dunes National Park

Ever have that experience where you have the BEST time somewhere and take tons of pictures that you think are going to be simply mind blowing... then come home, load 'em up on the computer and wonder what happened and why do they feel unsatisfying? I do. Almost every time I go somewhere. It's not that fun if I'm being honest and generally hits about the time that I get my "coming down" feeling which follows every good trip.

So I've given it some deep thought. Was I misremembering the experience, misjudging my skills, or was it something else?  Conclusion... Something else.

My brain is this magical super computer. It takes in smell, sight, audio and a lot of kinesthetic info. It identifies and processes a single image in about 13 milliseconds - that's 30x faster than the blink of an eye. My camera cannot! What I see and remember and feel in the same time period as my camera captures an image, is so much more. As beautiful as any picture can be, it pales in comparison, understandably.

Lessons I've personally learned. 

1. Process the images fairly quickly. Use the feelings and additional info that my brain has captured (which is likely short term!) to tweak images until they resonate.

2. Reviewing images a few days, weeks and months later triggers memories created in the moment of the experience. I start to associate all those memories of the senses with the photo I have saved and they take on new dimensions. (For me... not for anyone else viewing them.)

3. Expect a little feeling of disappointment or deflation post-trip and accept that it's normal (again, just for me). But also remember that it passes and mere days after processing images, when the brain has space to cultivate joy, a sentimental smile and a lot of gratitude, I find the "high" of the trip returns and all of a sudden I can see the images as mind blowing... or at least mind-expanding... or maybe even just satisfying!

I digress. The reason for this post and maybe every post, is to line up some thoughts with some pictures and give myself something to gratefully come back to. And without further ado, here are my favorite pictures from a quick journey down south to Great Sand Dunes National Park. Camping with Teddy and Mark. Dunes so giant, you need to look for the tiny people to put them in perspective! 

We were so fortunate to have, in the space of just 18 hours, a magnificent sunset and cool evening then that breathtaking early morning light - and we hiked during both of them.

Quandary Peak fail - Oh well

Quandary Peak. One the Colorado "14-ers" and reputedly an easy one at that. I mean challenging in that you have to hike uphill for 3.5 miles, ascending 3300' before reaching the peak. But easy in that it was not a technical trail - it is well trafficked, well maintained and easily identifiable.

I set out to do this one alone. The weather was forecast said zero percent chance of rain. I packed Goretex just in case, of course. 

There was the 4am alarm clock. And the two hour drive from Boulder in the dark. Then I joined handfuls of other people at 6:30am, just after the sun rose, to begin the hike. 

Not going to lie. My diamox-enabled legs were dragging but I was making my way slowly up the trail.  The first mile through the forest. Very nice indeed. 

The second mile featured pika's foraging for bunches of flowers to decorate their rock homes and my first view of the peak. I listened for the squeaks of enthusiasm and trained my eyes for movement, then shot a few pics of them. (I had been seeking out pikas all year!)

Then after climbing 2500' up, finding myself on the ridge just prior to the final push, something happened to the weather. It took a turn! Within minutes light rain became driving frozen pellets hitting me head on. Then came kinda white-out conditions with snow... and me huddled in fetal position, sporting waterproof shoes, pants and jacket and ice accumulating on my backpack.

I think I could have stayed a while longer and waited for a return of blue sky if it wasn't for 2 things:

1. My gloves were wet through and my hands were wickedly cold and very painful.

2. One of my fellow hikers pulled weather up on her phone and announced to everyone nearby that the weather was staying like this for several hours. 

We all fled down the mountain. Over the icy quartz rocks that made up the trail stairs, and through the mud. I was one of the better prepared when it came to gear - think 21 year old gals with short shorts and thin windbreakers, flatlanders without gloves and hats,  day-trippers in corduroy shirts and glamour sneakers soaking up the rain. But everyone understood that the snacks, photo ops and cheerful conversations with strangers, had come to a grinding halt.

One hour later, 1000 feet lower, I turned to find blue sky had returned. My fingers were almost recovered too. Drat!!! It was too late. I didn't have the energy or muscle strength to head on back up again. This little challenge would be revisited again really soon though. 

C'est la vie!

What did I learn today?

1. Always bring hand warmers

2. Waterproof gloves in any season are worth it. (Experiment with which ones work with hiking poles)

3. Could take one less warm layer. (I forget how warm it is to hike up, up, up!)

3. Carry fewer snacks - there is no nice place to sit and eat once you are up in the rocks anyway

4. Drink more water. More water. WATER. (This one seems the hardest lesson for me and the price is paid later in the day.)

5. Get better sleep the night before.

6. It's OK to abandon the hike and try again another day for any reason. The goal is joy and a beautiful experience, not suffer and sacrifice just to tell a better story afterwards.

7. Bringing the big camera is a luxury and how that feels on the day of the hike, is the answer to "should I or shouldn't I?"

8. Going alone doesn't mean you should expect to be alone up there - and that's not a bad thing.

9. Remember to learn from others on the trail, give to others on the trail, don't judge others on the trail!

10. Stop to look around. Flowers, animals, views, fresh air and human moments are all worth a few seconds of intentional observation and gratitude WILL follow.

Alone time

 You know how sometimes all you need is space and time to breathe, renew a connection to nature and not feel responsible for someone else's experience?  That was me yesterday.

I headed to what has become one of my "go to" places of 2024. Rocky Mountain National Park. 

The forecast was for thunderstorms. I didn't care! Moody pictures float my boat too and since I wasn't anticipating every being more than a half mile from my car, I wasn't worried about being another of Colorado's lightning victims. 

Midday... bright sky, flat images with unappealing contrast and completely lacking the reflections, shadows and wavelengths that I'd prefer. But boy did the air smell good! And it gave me creative practice in Lightroom, turning blah pictures into something more interesting. 

I was hard pressed to find animals. :-( 

A few elk in the distance, butterflies when the sun came out and the occasional bird. Of course, chipmunks. (They appear to be the free gift that comes with your entrance fee, rain or shine, hot or cold.)

Then I ventured further from the car and took a break to play "rock or marmot?"  Mostly identifying rocks... but eventually training my eyes better!

I began to hear and see and feel the animals come out. In this one spot, just before I was pelted by hail and ran for the car, thunder suddenly crashing around me, I was lucky enough to see my only marmot of the day, a couple of very curious wee birds and a freakin' weasel that stopped for just a second (and a second is all I need) as it scurried by, in search of last minute dinner options.

I had the the MOST joy sharing all of this with a young couple on the trail, who had just moved here from Oklahoma. They 100% shared my wonder and excitement at our good fortune.

This is why we come here. To revive little parts of ourselves that might otherwise be overlooked in everyday life.